Decline
“She's got a lot of problems but I feel very confident that she will get on a list, and will have a successful operation," Anne told me after Amber left. "I hope to God. She's a good woman. A good young woman. A good woman. When Bob died she came down here and spent two and a half months with me. She is one of my ... she is my best friend. And I admire her attitude."
She described some of the complicating factors of her condition.
"I don't consider her living on borrowed time,” Ann said. “I am optimistic she will get a liver, she will survive the surgery and she will do well.” She punctuated this with a resolute declaration: “That's what I say,” and I was reminded of Rita, my next door neighbor, who felt a similar conviction that her husband John would recover from the cancer that had spread to his liver. She had recently told me that she believed that it was in remission, that John wanted to live, had put his life in the hands of the Lord, and would beat it. What could I do but agree, saying something about the awesome power of the will to live, which I believe to be true. But that will obviously only takes us so far.
It was a busy fall, and I had a hard time setting up a date to talk to Amber. Her mom said she was looking forward to telling her story, but she didn't come down a few Saturdays because she was feeling weak. Finally, we settled on talking during the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. Anne called me an hour before we were scheduled to get together and apologized. Amber was too tired, and was resting. She died two weeks later, on Dec. 13, before a liver became available.